Wrong and Right
by kec34
Summary: Snape and McGonagall have a conversation neither or them expected. Minerva later reflects on this after the events on the Astronomy Tower.
1. Chapter 1

Minerva McGonagall was rarely wrong. It was for this reason she could be a bit stubborn, but it also meant that she trusted her choices and was unfailingly loyal. Therefore at times like these when the rest of the professors were expressing concerns about a certain former Death Eater on staff, she paid them no mind. She trusted Dumbledore, and that was more than enough.

Now she shivered involuntarily as she walked briskly down the stairs into the cold, damp dungeon. She avoided this part of the castle when she could, but the Headmaster had asked her to check on the very man in question, a certain Severus Snape, and so she found herself roaming the corridors of the castle's bottommost floor.

McGonagall's mind was far from at ease. The death of the Diggory boy and Potter's account of He Who Must Not Be Named's return had rocked her and the rest of the staff considerably, and she had a feeling that her impending encounter with Snape would make her feel even worse. After finding Snape's office empty she made her way to his classroom, and was relieved to find Snape sitting at his desk grading end of term exams, looking paler than usual, if possible, but essentially fine. Minerva's brow furrowed in concern as she cleared her throat to make her presence known.

"Severus."

Snape glanced up from his paper with a look of particular disinterest.

"Minerva. I presume the Headmaster has sent you."

"Yes," McGonagall replied curtly, making her way to the front of the classroom where Snape sat. "He thought you might need..." her voice trailed off as she got closer to Snape. She took a deep breath and continued, "He thought you might need someone to talk to. In light of the events of the past week."

"If you are referring to the death of the Hufflepuff boy, I assure you that I am coping just fine" Snape said with a smirk. He looked up at McGonagall, and noticed her staring intently at his left arm. When she finally broke away and looked back at Snape's face her eyes were quiet and sad.

"I'm not just talking about Cedric Diggory, Serverus. I know you went back to him that very night, and I cannot imagine he was very welcoming."

"Ah, yes," Snape said quietly, his eyes glinting, "catching up with my old friends. Yes, Minerva, if you are suggesting the Dark Lord did not throw a dinner party upon my return you are correct. But it is of no consequence to you how I found my way back into his good graces. All that matters is that I have, and I am perfectly fine, and if Dumbledore sent you here so that I could talk about my feelings, the pair of you are sorely mistaken."

McGonagall pressed on. "Yes, well all of this, on top of the Potter boy being in such grave danger. I know its quite trying, seeing the boy in his current state, so afraid and upset. He's just so young..."

Snape scoffed. "Potter? Potter. Surely you are joking, Minerva, the boy is insufferable. I assure you my concerns about Potter are limited to making sure he does not get himself killed as Dumbledore, for whatever reason, has deemed him quite valuable. The fact that Potter had a bad day most certainly not keeping me up at night."

Minerva felt her blood pressure rise. She could usually tolerate Snape, and she was practically the only person on staff not currently questioning his loyalties, but his unrelenting hatred of poor Harry Potter made her want to slap the smug look off of his face. Truthfully this was an emotion felt quite often when dealing with the Potions master. But Snape was not finished.

"Personally I doubt the boy living or dying is of any real consequence. Our efforts to stop the Dark Lord would not be hindered by his disappearance. He has no measurable amount of skill and yet you all treat his as though he is the answer to our prayers, which has done nothing but boost the boy's self esteem, an area in which he has never been lacking. Now Minerva if you are done looking at me with false concern so that you can tell Dumbledore you have done what he has asked, I would greatly appreciate it if I could get back to my exams."

Ready to burst, Professor McGonagall sighed and turned to go, but suddenly she felt that it was all too much. Here she was, shivering and shaking down in the dungeon, when she herself had exams to grade and much to worry about, all to see how Severus Snape was feeling, and he was acting as if she were the one inconveniencing him._ What was Dumbledore thinking? As if Snape would talk to her about such things. Oh how she would love to get the better of him, just once_. And in a split second she whirled around, deciding to act on a hunch that she had always hoped was true.

"Do you think me a fool Severus?" She asked, her eyes flashing beneath her spectacles. She took a deep breath. "I know exactly why you of all people are protecting Harry Potter."

Snape leaned back in his chair, preparing himself for the variety of things that his colleague might say. He had heard almost all of them spouted off together by one Sirus Black the night before in Dumbledore's office. _Self serving and opportunistic. Only trying to avoid Azkaban. Once a dark wizard, always a dark wizard._ He fixed his face in a look of contempt as he gazed up at Minerva, prepared for any of these, but to his surprise she turned around to face the rows of empty desks.

After a moment she spoke again, gazing out at the empty Potions classroom. "As you well know, Severus, being a professor often means knowing far more that you would care to know about your students. It is so easy, you see, to watch them."

She glanced back at him, and then began to walk, as though she were teaching the vacant desks. "In class, in the Great Hall. We are at all times above them, both figuratively and literally. A position that makes it quite easy to study their behavior. To see which students are exchanging glances across the classroom, who is partnering with whom. You can see allegiances quite clearly simply by noting who laughs when a student makes a joke. Of course it is all the more telling by who does not laugh when someone is the target of a joke."

Minerva turned once more to face Snape, his expression still impossible to read. Snape felt terribly bored. He was sure she was about to make some sort of comparison of professors watching their students to professors watching each other. Or Dumbledore watching his professors. Really neither made sense. He suddenly became annoyed, usually McGonagall did not waste his time.

"I always watch them very carefully you see. Especially the students in my house. I know you do the same. Every so often there are those special students that you know could be great."

Minerva's voice became quiet, "So you can imagine the interest with which I watched many years ago one of my students, one of my extraordinary students, become such close friends with a Slytherin. It was most unusual, and yet really rather sincere. To see them, smiling at each other secretly in class, taking walks on the grounds when it seemed least likely their classmates would see. And then suddenly then in a flash it was over and done, and I watched these students go their separate ways. Very different ways."

Snape had become very still and even paler than before, and Minerva clasped her hands together so that he could not see how much they were trembling. She had become suddenly frightened, but continued anyway. "Sometimes," she said, her voice distant, "Miss Granger reminds me of her so very much."

Snape's face flushed red and he stood up with a start.

"Granger? Of her? No! Never." He spat the words in a tone of mingled anger and desperation that Minerva had never heard from him, or from anyone for that matter. It took only the lightening fast gleam of triumph in her eyes for Snape to realise his mistake.

His jaw dropped and a look of bewilderment took over his countenance. He had stepped squarely into her trap. His mind began to race, yet everything felt impossibly slow. It had never occurred to him that someone else could know. That someone could have noticed back them, could have pieced it together. _What about the others? His colleagues that had once been his professors, could they have noticed too?_ Even in his panic he felt sure that only Minerva McGonagall was both perceptive and secretly romantic enough to put the pieces together. He stumbled backwards and sank back into his chair.

"The day we learned the Potters were in danger was the day Dumbledore told me you had joined our ranks. As soon as he said it, I just knew." Minerva glanced down and saw that she was not the only one shaking.

"Lily" she said quietly, and Snape closed his eyes at the sound of her name. "So beautiful, so clever. So kind." She reach forward and put her hand on Snape's shoulder. She expected him to flinch, to push her away, but he did not. He remained with his eyes closed, slowly moving his jaw. Whether it was to keep from screaming at her or to keep from crying she did not know, but it occurred to her later that it was probably a little of both.

"Oh Severus," she said, feeling a sudden tightness in her throat, "she would be so very proud."

Snape shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, but despite his best efforts a single tear escaped from the corner of his eye, and began to run slowly down his pale cheek. Before she could stop herself, Minerva found her hand brushing the tear away. She tightened her grasp on his shoulder, and with that Snape opened his eyes, and Minerva's hands fell back at her sides.

When Snape spoke, it was in a rough whisper. "Potter. He cannot know. Dumbledore has begun to suspect..." His voice trailed off. "It is imperative that the boy does not know."

"Yes, of course."

Snape blinked, and then began to look around as though he had awoken from a dream. Hastily he began to gather his papers, and in that moment Professor McGonagall knew that they would never speak of this again.

"Even after you two split. Even after you all left Hogwarts, I could tell how much she cared for you Severus."

But now Snape did not react. When he looked at her his eyes were dry and his expression was vacant yet severe.

"Minerva, I have no earthly idea what you are talking about. If you'll excuse me, if must attend to my grading." And with that Snape swept out of the room, his robes billowing behind him.

Minerva exhaled, unaware that she had even been holding her breath, and look at the chair where Snape had been sitting with disbelief. She wiped away her own tears and adjusted her glasses, gathered her composure and walked again amoung the desks as she exited the room. When she reached the corridor, she looked back at the classroom, stunned. Then with a flick of her wand she extinguished the lights and shut the doors with a pop, the way she had done at the end of lessons each day for as long as she could remember.

As she began the long climb up the stairs she thought to herself that surely this was not what Dumbledore had expected when he sent her on this errand. Yet as soon as the thought entered her head it occurred to her that perhaps this was exactly what Dumbledore had wanted all along.


	2. Chapter 2

Two years later Minerva found herself running as fast as she could across the grounds, exhausted from fighting Death Eaters and fearful for the safety of her students. She reached the crowd at the same time as Ginny Weasley and grabbed the girl's arm. Willing her self to keep her voice steady she asked, "Where are Severus and Draco? And where," she glanced around, "is Potter?"

Ginny swallowed hard. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I'll find Harry." She glanced up at her Head of House. "I have to find Harry."

"Yes dear, find him and bring him to the hospital wing."

Ginny hurried forward, but Minerva walked more slowly, taking in the scene. It seemed they were all gathered around something or someone. She gasped out loud when she saw just who that someone was. _No. It couldn't be._ Now Harry Potter was kneeling beside him, while Hagrid sobbed loudly. Minerva's head swam. _It couldn't be Dumbledore, he couldn't die now._ _There was so much to be done. Someone had to be here, to protect the school, the students._ With a jolt McGonagall realized that that role now fell to her.

Professor Sprout came running up to her, and let out with a sob, "He's dead!"

"Are you certain?"

"Oh Minerva its true, it really is. He's dead."

"Where is Severus?"

"Hagrid may know..."

After what seemed like an eternity of trying to decipher exactly what Hagrid was saying, Minerva made her way to the hospital wing, still befuddled by the situation and speechless at the loss of Dumbledore. As she arrived, she noted that though Harry looked for the most part unharmed, she felt she had never seen the boy more hurt in his life. Although her heart felt broken already from seeing Albus Dumbledore sprawled out in the grass, nothing prepared her for what the boy said.

"Snape killed Dumbledore."

The whole world seemed to shift and she suddenly couldn't see. The next thing she knew she was sitting, and was surprised that the voice she heard speaking was her own.

"We all wondered... but he trusted... always... _Snape_... I can't believe it..."

Her whole body was shaking as she began to slowly work things out in her head. _Had it all been a lie? Had he played right into her story, pretended she was right_? She thought of him, of that one tear streaming down his face, and suddenly felt sick. _But Dumbledore had been so sure!_ She felt herself speaking again, talking to the others, but really she could not understand what everyone was saying, she could not process the truth. She finally tuned back into reality when she heard the boy's voice.

"And he didn't think my mother was worth a damn either because she was Muggle-born... 'Mudblood,' he called her..."

Something inside of her snapped. _Snape. After all this time. After all those meetings and secrets and lies. After all he had done, or appeared to be doing for the Order. It had all been a lie. He had never really changed. Not even for Lily._ McGonagall looked up at Harry. _Not even to protect the son she died for. _Tears filled her eyes._ And she, Minerva McGonagall, had let him do it. She had helped him do it. _And then it occurred that it had literally been she that helped him do it, helped him kill Dumbledore, for she had sent Filius to tell Snape that the Death Eaters were in the castle.

Horrified, she relayed this to the others, who assured her it was not her fault. But Minerva knew better. She was embarrassed for how whole-heartedly she had trusted Snape. She couldn't believe she had fallen for his lies, but at the same she couldn't believe how good he was at lying. _No one was that good_. But the image of Dumbledore's body floated to the surface of her mind and with a grimace Minerva accepted that apparently, Snape was.

And with a concerted effort Minerva pushed all thoughts of Snape and his betrayal from her mind, and joined in the others in their effort to reconstruct what had happened that night. Her head began to clear and she looked at the young faces surrounding her. They looked sad and shocked, but above all else, they looked terrified. And it was now her job to protect them.

So when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley entered she was someone else. She was someone who was composed, competent, and sure. She dealt with Harry, and the teachers, and the ministry. She arranged Dumbledore's funeral and debated endlessly with the Heads of House about whether or not Hogwarts should open for another school year. It didn't hurt as much when she had something to do, somewhere to be, and as Headmistress she had an endless supply of duties to distract herself with.

But late at night, as she sat in an office that would never feel like her's, watching Dumbledore's sleeping portrait, her mind wandered. She went over everything she could remember about Snape, from the day he had been sorted to the fateful day she saw him run up the steps to the Astronomy Tower. Sometimes she tried to think of a perfect excuse, of a reason that could explain everything, anything to prove that Snape was still on their side. But the fact that she was sitting in the Headmaster's office was proof enough that Snape had done something quite irreversible. It took her a while, but at last she decided that when it came to Snape, she had simply been wrong, and perhaps that hurt the most. For Minerva McGonagall was rarely wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter took a deep breath as he knocked on the door of what, to him, would always be Dumbledore's office.

"Come in," came the sharp reply of Harry's former Head of House.

He entered, and was surprised to find he couldn't help smiling at the sight of Minerva McGonagall sitting behind the Headmaster's desk. He glanced up at the portrait of Dumbledore above her and found him smiling back. There was a clear look of pride in Dumbledore's eyes and Harry thought back on the conversation he had had with the portrait a few days earlier, after he had done away with Voldemort once and for all.

"Harry! To what do I owe the pleasure?" Minerva's voice interrupted his train of thought.

"Hi Professor, I wanted to come and say goodbye while I had the chance. I think we're all leaving tomorrow, the Wealsey's and Hermione and I."

"Well I'm glad you came by. Please, have a seat."

Minerva gestured to a chair in front of the desk. Harry sat down, thinking of all the times he'd sat in that very chair talking to Dumbledore, and then of all the times Snape must have sat there as well. _No, not now._ Harry blinked hard and willed himself to focus.

"I trust you've enjoyed being back in your old dormitory?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, its been great. I've rather missed my bed."

McGonagall smiled at him, but then her expression became more serious.

"Harry, I do realize you must already be tired of hearing this, but I would like to thank you really, for all that you have done. You have been so very brave, and as someone who has watched you grow up..." Minerva's voice trailed off and Harry tried not to squirm in his chair. He had seen Professor McGonagall get emotional very few times, and he was never well prepared for it.

After a moment she continued, "I am so very proud of you. And I know that your parents would be as well."

Harry smiled. "Thank you Professor. I wanted to thank you too. For everything you've done for me over the years. I... well I can't imagine what all of this would have been like, without know I had you on my side." Harry noticed Professor McGonagall blush, and continued.

"Really, you've always been so kind to me, letting me play Quidditch first year, and defending me when Umbridge told me I couldn't be an Auror, and then I can't even begin with everything in the past few days. Really, thank you so much Professor."

Harry looked up to see McGonagall's eyes were filled with tears, but her voice was steady when she said, "You're welcome Harry. And by the way, I believe it would be appropriate for you to call me Minerva now, if you would like."

Harry's eyes widened and he felt himself choke a bit, even though he had not been drinking anything.

"I... umm, sure, okay, yeah of course." He managed to sputter.

He could tell from the look on her face that McGonagall had something she wanted to ask him, but was holding back. Unsure of what to do next, he was about to excuse himself, when he looked up at Dumbledore's portrait and a sudden thought occurred to him.

He glanced back at McGonagall.

"Where's his portrait?" he asked with a sudden intensity.

"Whose?"

"Snape's! He was Headmaster wasn't he? Why doesn't he have a portrait?"

A look of surprise registered on Minerva's face.

"Well Harry, Snape abandoned his post while Headmaster, therefore he is not entitled to a portrait."

"Abandoned? Snape didn't abandon anything! He never abandoned me, and he certainly never abandoned this school!" Harry felt his voice rising, and took a deep breath to regain control.

"So what you said, to... to Voldemort, it was true?"

Minerva wondered if it was obvious that she had been wanting to ask this question for the past four days.

When Harry spoke again, his voice was softer. "Yeah, of course. Before he died..." Harry swallowed hard. "Before he died, he gave me his memories. You see he and my mother..."

Harry suddenly felt it was almost too personal, to explain Snape's story out loud. It had been under the influence of a great deal of adrenaline that he had spilled everything to Ron and Hermione, but now, in the stark silence of McGonagall's office, he was acutely aware of how horrified Snape would be that Harry was divulging his most private memories.

However, one look at McGonagall's face made him realize there was no going back now.

"Your mother?" she prompted, her voice quiet and kind, but now trembling a bit.

"He loved her. He loved her a lot. He didn't mean to, but it was his fault Voldemort went after us. After me. But from the moment he knew she was in danger he switched sides. He would have done anything to protect her. And after she died, I guess that sort of translated into protecting me."

Harry saw a look of joy pass flicker in McGonagall's eyes, but then she frowned once more.

"But Dumbledore? He really did kill Dumbledore, did he not?"

"He did. But Dumbledore was already dying. You remember the curse on his hand?"

McGonagall nodded.

"Right, well he knew Voldemort had asked Draco Malfoy to kill him, kill Dumbledore, so by having Snape do it Dumbledore kind of killed two birds with one stone."

McGonagall frowned with confusion.

"Oh sorry, thats something Muggles say. Er you see, Malfoy was spared from having to kill anyone, and Snape put himself in the position to be Voldemort's most trusted follower. So Dumbledore found away to use his dying to benefit everyone. Its brilliant really..."

Harry's voiced trailed off as he thought to himself that brilliant or not, it still frustrated him how very in the dark he had been about the whole affair. He glanced at McGonagall and saw that she was still processing the information.

She sat in silence, her mouth slightly open and her eyes unblinking, as though her thoughts were far away. After a long silence she closed, opened them again and looked up at Harry.

"Surely," she said slowly, "there is something we can do to get his portrait in its rightful place."

"Really? Do you think if I talked to the Ministry?"

"Yes, Potter, I believe the ministry is currently slightly in your debt," she said with a small smile.

"Right," Harry grinned sheepishly. "Well, I'll talk to Kingsley right away. I'll do anything. Its got to be up there."

"Yes, welll Harry, you have my full support."

"Thank you. And again thank you for everything. But I'd better run, Ron and Hermione will be looking for me I expect."

"Yes, of course they will. Well, I'm quite glad you came by."

After the door closed behind Harry, she let out a sigh. And then for the first time since Voldemort's defeat, Minerva McGonagall put her face in her hands and let herself really and truly cry.

After all those years, all that time, her most hopeful suspicions had been true. What Snape had done, how much he had given, it overwhelmed her and comforted her at the same time. She thought of Snape sitting in this office so alone, with no one to turn to, now one to confide in. She thought with a pang that he could have told her, could have trusted her. But perhaps that was why he had avoided her so the past year.

She stood up, wiping away her tears, and look outside at the grounds. Evidence of the battle still remained, there was much rebuilding would be done, but next year the students would return, just as they always had. They would come here, to the castle where some of the greatest stories ever told had transpired, and they would learn. They would learn potions and spells, yes, but they would learn more than that too. They would learn how to make friends and how to keep them, how to fight and how to forgive, and above all else, they would learn how to love each other. And none of it would have been possible without Severus Snape.

McGonagall gently ran her fingers over the Hogwarts Crest on her robes, admiring the symbols of each of the houses. In the end, Snape had been all of it. He had been loyal and clever, sly and brave. Her heart swelled with pride and she suddenly felt more at peace than she had been in a very long time. Her relief came very little from the fact that she had been right all along. It was more because Snape had been right all along. From the moment he switched sides, he had never wavered, never strayed.

She thought then of the portrait she felt sure would soon be hanging on the wall above her desk. At any other point in her career at Hogwarts the idea that she would spend everyday with Snape sneering at her from above would have horrified her. But now she only smiled. It would be nice to see an old friend.


End file.
